


Come Clean

by riyku



Series: Skam Sunday [19]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, No plot whatsoever, Porn, Porn with Feelings, maybe a little nippleplay, true fucking love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: In which Isak takes a shower, and Even just wants to make him dirty again.





	Come Clean

**Author's Note:**

> oh goodness, the title.
> 
> i'm putting tebtosca to work this week. the real goddamn miracle of all this is that she hasn't broken up with me yet.
> 
> happy sunday, my lovelies! if you're looking for plot, you're unlikely to find much here. or any. at all. hope you enjoy!

The water shuts off and after a few minutes, Isak walks down the hallway. Bare feet slapping on the floor and hair dripping onto his shoulders, shorts stuck to his thighs because he never takes the time to dry off all the way. He smells like Even's lavender shampoo and citrus soap he always talks shit about whenever Even sneaks it into the cart, the kinda stuff that Even knows he likes but won't ever own up to it.

He's scrubbed the night off of him, all evidence of the joint they'd passed between them, sitting on the back steps of Eva's place, the beer he'd spilled over his hand and on his jeans after someone knocked into him, the lingering traces of Even's aftershave that often transfers onto his skin, makes them smell the same. A squeaky clean boy, and all Even can think about is how he wants to make him dirty again.

"Your turn," Isak tells him, running a hand through his hair to dry it. Already, his curls are coming back to life at his temples. Even could spend hours wrapping them around his fingers, _has_ spent hours doing it, loves those curls and the kid attached to them.

Even begins to slip past him in the hallway, pulls up short as Isak tips his face up and pouts a little, silently asks him for a kiss. He tastes like toothpaste. His skin is damp under Even's hands and his lips are warm as he angles in and opens up, takes Even's runaway tongue into his mouth and sucks on it. 

Even slides his hands up along Isak's ribs, feels them expand under his touch. He keeps moving up, across Isak's chest, the pad of his thumb catching on Isak's nipple in a way that makes him hiss in a quick breath, moan low on the exhale, press their hips together, so Even does it again. A little more intent this time, a touch more pressure, another button Even can push and he can't for the life of him figure out why it's taken him so long to find this one. He's been all over every fraction of Isak's body a hundred times, knows it better than he knows his own.

There's an Isak-shaped road map etched onto Even's mind and Even adds this to it, drops a pin on it beside some others, like the way pulling Isak's hair will make him shiver, how unfailingly he gets off on Even pushing him up against walls and holding him there, how far Even can shove his fingers into his mouth before he gags and sputters and then begs him to do it again. 

"Get rid of this," Isak says and plucks at Even's shirt, hooks his elbow around Even's neck at the same time to keep him close, drawing a line along Even's jaw with this lips and already too far gone to notice that two of these things sorta prevent the other. He's rubbed himself hard against Even's thigh, precome bleeding through and leaving faint snail trails on Even's jeans, but whatever, he's pretty sure they're Isak's anyway.

"Get rid of these," Even shoots back, and snaps the waistband of Isak's shorts.

Sharp teeth nip and tug at Even's earlobe, a breath that sounds like rushing water then Isak steps back, roses in his cheeks, more of them creeping down his throat and chest. 

"Do it for me," Isak says and helps Even out of his shirt, sucks down the column of Even's throat while Even tries to focus long enough to figure out his belt and buttons, hooks his thumbs into Isak's shorts as he walks him toward the bed then kisses him down onto it.

"You smell like weed," Isak tells him. He shoves Even onto his back and straddles him. Rocks into it, as Even pushes his fingers between his lips, gets them wet then slides them down Isak's chest, leaves faint spit streaks on the way to his nipples. Isak arches, moans again when Even plays them between his fingers, soft flesh growing tight, hard as his cock.

"Yeah, and you smell like lemons. I'd like it better if you smelled like me." Even's hands fall to Isak's ass, spreading him wide. 

"Fuck off," Isak says, the good kinda heat to it, the kind that makes Even's hips leap up and his breath lock down and his pulse begin to jackhammer. 

Isak reaches into the wreck of blankets, gropes blindly as he leans forward for another kiss, feeds himself on Even's mouth until he finds the lube, working his ass along Even's cock, the slow drag nearly enough to get Even there before they've even really started. 

"Just gonna," Isak mutters. He slicks up his own fingers and reaches back. His knuckles bump against the head of Even's cock as he fingers himself open, and there's something unspeakably hot about that, about being able to feel it but not see it, to only be able to track it from the slight frown on Isak's face, the faint crease between his eyebrows, the moment when the stretch turns good by the way his mouth falls open and lax.

Even's hands span Isak's waist and he adds a little leverage as Isak lifts himself and lines them up, thighs shaky with the effort of sinking back down slow. The small pout is back and Even yanks him forward to kiss it off of him, fingers digging into Isak's back, feeling the shift of his spine with each rock of his hips, the unbelievable clench of Isak's body on his cock. Isak pulls off and crashes back onto Even, nothing coordinated about the things his tongue is doing to Even's mouth and his rolling hips, the fists he digs into Even's hair.

Isak leans back again and Even brings his legs up, creates a cradle for Isak to fall into and presses his palm flat to Isak's chest. The whole of his universe in the space between Isak's heartbeats. Isak goes still, another landmark, another pin in the map, Isak's cock straining toward his belly, Even's cock buried and pulsing as deep as possible, marking Isak from the inside out and Isak always goes so still right before he comes, like he's trying to freeze the sensation, hold onto it for as long as he can.

Grip strong around Isak's middle, Even rolls them to their sides, licks away Isak's whimper when he pulls himself free and replaces his cock with his fingers. Slowly moves them in and out of the mess he's made of Isak's ass, rubs his thumb along the swollen, fucked out flesh of Isak's rim then keeps them there, knows Isak will let him fall asleep that way if he wants.

Isak hums, happy, traces a shape on the intersection of Even's throat and his shoulder, and Even's sure he'll wake tomorrow to find a bruise there, that he'll most likely have to wear a scarf to work for the next few days. Even grins thinking about it, free and huge and not like he used to smile, back when he was afraid to show too much, in those days and months and years before Isak. He never holds back now. Not anymore. He doesn't have to.

\--end

 

thanks for reading!


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